


From Down Miskatonic County Way (the secret agent remix)

by TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel



Series: Small-Town Girl [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Lovecraftian, No Sex, Remix, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 11:51:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6115584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel/pseuds/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Phil Coulson was the descendant of an Elder God?</p><p>[Remix of Small-Town Girl (from down Miskatonic County way)]</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Down Miskatonic County Way (the secret agent remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Katsala](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katsala/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Small-Town Girl (from down Miskatonic County way)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1418038) by [TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel/pseuds/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel). 



> _So, yet another remix of my fic, because Katsala wanted a version where Phil is the one with tentacles instead of Darcy, and I couldn't resist._
> 
> _As per usual, I don't use anything from Agents of SHIELD, because I don't watch that show._

Phil worked out early on that he was different from other people. For one thing, he didn’t have a father, unlike all the other children he went to school with; Phil’s father had taken off when Phil was born, for reasons that the rest of the neighbourhood didn’t understand, but gossiped about on a regular basis. By the time he was five, Phil had overheard all of the major theories put forward by the other housewives who lived on his street: that his father couldn’t handle the responsibility of a newborn baby, that Phil wasn’t really his father’s son and Phil’s father had realized that fact, that Phil’s father was secretly a spy who didn’t want to endanger his family, and so on (the spy theory was Phil’s favourite).

The truth, however, was rather different, and was related to the major reason why Phil was different from other people.

Tentacles.

Phil had always had them, for as long as he could remember, and for equally as long his mother had been telling him to keep them hidden. People wouldn’t understand, she told him, and most people feared what they didn’t understand.

“Why?” Phil had asked; he had a lively sense of curiosity, one which was rarely hampered by feelings such as fear or caution.

Phil’s mother had sighed, and ruffled his hair.

“It’s just the way some people are, Phil. Everyone is different, for good or bad, and we should all try and get along, but a lot of people don’t understand that. If anyone found out that you have tentacles, and why, they might want to hurt you. So they need to stay a secret, okay?”

Phil hadn’t understood, but he’d agreed anyway, because he knew that his mother was wise, in the same instinctive way that he knew that one of his grandparents was a Great and Terrible Old One. No one had ever told Phil about his grandparent; the knowledge was simply there, in his head, and always had been. 

Phil sometimes wondered why he had tentacles when his mother didn’t, but it didn’t really matter: his mother was good and kind and loved him more than anything, even though he was different from the other children, and that was what mattered.

As he grew older, Phil came to suspect that his father had known about Phil’s tentacles, and that was why he had left. One day, Phil asked his mother about it.

“Dad left because of the tentacles, didn’t he?”

Phil’s mother went still, and her expression turned regretful and sad.

“Phil –”

“Mom, I need to know.” Phil’s voice was calm and even, because even if the answer was yes, that didn’t change anything.

“I never told him that my father wasn’t human.” Phil’s mother looked like she wanted to cry. “I knew – my mother had told me – but I’d come out perfectly human, so it never occurred to me that… certain traits might be passed on, further down the line. When you were born, you were so beautiful, but your Dad… he was horrified by your tentacles. Said all kinds of nasty things. So I told him that if that was the way he felt, then he could leave. And he did.”

Phil wrapped his mother in a hug, wrapping his tentacles around her as well as his arms, the way he used to when he was small.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” His mother looked him straight in the eye. “Your Dad was a good man, but he wasn’t an open-minded one. That he couldn’t see what a gift you were… that’s all on him, Phil.”

“I know,” said Phil, even though the thought of his father rejecting him hurt more than he was willing to let on. “But I’m still sorry.”

His mother pulled him into another hug, and they stood there for a while, simply taking comfort from the close contact.

* * *

Phil wasn’t sure exactly how the tentacles always fit beneath his clothing, without leaving a bulge or a wrinkle anywhere to indicate their existence, but they did. Usually Phil kept them curled up at his back in a way that defied all physical laws, hidden beneath the careful layers of clothing he always wore. Only when he was at home did he let the tentacles emerge, using them to do things as casually as he did with his hands.

When he’d joined SHIELD, barely out of his first year of college, it had been on the condition that he was excused from visits to medical unless he was actively in danger of dying. Fury – a senior officer at the time, rather than the Director he later became – had reluctantly agreed to this condition. 

There had been some close calls over the years, but so far, Phil had managed to avoid anyone at SHIELD finding out about his tentacles.

Now, as Phil woke to find himself in the medical wing, wearing a hospital gown and feeling a great deal of pain in his chest, he suspected that the secret was out – at least to SHIELD medical staff and Nick Fury. It took Phil a few moments to remember _why_ he was in the medical wing, but when he did, he winced. Facing down Loki alone had not been his brightest moment.

Phil glanced out to the side to see his tentacles waving gently in the air, like seaweed in a gentle ocean current.

Yeah, that secret was _definitely_ out.

Phil stared at the ceiling for a while, wondering how he felt about that. If there was anyone he trusted not to treat him badly because of his tentacles, it was Fury – they’d known each other for too long and too well for Phil to think Fury would hold the tentacles against him. Phil wasn’t so sure about the medical staff, however – they’d seen some weird things, sure, but this was likely to be a new one even for them.

Phil was still contemplating the issue when the door to his room opened, and Fury himself stepped through.

“Coulson. Good to see you alive, despite that stupid-ass thing you did.”

“Don’t start,” said Phil tiredly.

Fury actually followed Phil’s request, taking a seat in the chair next to Phil’s bedside.

“So.” Fury looked pointedly down at the gently waving tentacles. “You want to tell me about _these?_ ”

“Not particularly.”

Fury gave Phil a look. Phil sighed.

“Strictly off the record, my recent ancestry isn’t entirely human.”

“No shit,” Fury observed. “You want to tell me how, exactly?”

“One of my grandparents was – _is_ – an Elder God,” said Phil. When Fury looked blank, Phil added, “Didn’t you ever read any Lovecraft, growing up?”

“Hell no,” said Fury. “That bastard was xenophobic as shit. You think I want to subject myself to that?”

“Fair enough,” said Phil, who having read some of Lovecraft’s stories, couldn’t disagree. 

“Explain to me what, exactly, an Elder God is,” Fury prompted.

So Phil explained, rather warily. By the end of it Fury was looking a little pale.

“And these… entities… are powerful enough to destroy entire realities?”

“Technically, yes,” Phil admitted. “Although ours is the territory of the Great and Terrible Old One who is my grandparent, who mostly uses our reality as a breeding ground, I think.”

Fury was silent for a few moments. Phil got the feeling that Fury was putting that last statement somewhere in his mind where he didn’t have to deal with it.

“What does this mean for you? Is it only the tentacles, or have you inherited something more?”

Phil hesitated, because he’d never been entirely sure of that one himself.

“I don’t know. I inherited basic knowledge about my grandparent and what they are, and the tentacles, but besides that, I don’t really know how I’m different from an ordinary human being.”

“Well, I can tell you one thing,” said Fury. “You have an accelerated healing rate and an ability to survive things most people can’t. Loki should have killed you with that staff of his, but apparently you went into some kind of healing coma that kept you alive long enough for the surgeon to fix you up. Nearly gave him a heart attack when he saw the tentacles, but he did his job.”

Phil absorbed the idea of having an accelerated healing rate and an increased injury survival rate.

“I’d apologise, but SHIELD staff should know better than to freak out over the unusual,” said Phil. “The tentacles are weird, but they’re not the weirdest thing we’ve ever seen.”

Phil glanced up to see that Fury was giving him a long look.

“What?”

“Just wondering why you never told me.”

“It was never anyone’s business,” said Phil, feeling a little annoyed at Fury’s presumption. “And there’s enough rumours circulating about me without everyone finding out about my tentacles. Speaking of which, how many people know?”

“The surgeon, the nurses, the doctor in charge of your post-surgical care, and the EMTs who were first on the scene after Loki stabbed you,” said Fury. “They’ve all been sworn to secrecy. No one else knows.”

Phil allowed himself to relax a little at that. He’d been afraid that news of his tentacles might be all over SHIELD, and he hadn’t been looking forward to running that particular gauntlet.

“I assume that Loki was stopped?” Phil changed the subject. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

Fury sighed, looking tired and sad, and Phil knew the news wasn’t good.

“Oh, we stopped him, but only after he launched an invasive force on New York.” Fury put a tablet on the table beside Phil’s bed. “You can access the files on this.” He tapped the tablet. “Your eyes only. Don’t let it leave this room.”

“That bad?” Phil asked.

“The WSC tried to shut down Loki’s portal by nuking New York. They didn’t manage it, thanks to Stark,” Fury added, when Phil blanched, “but it was a close call.”

“What idiot thought that would work?” Phil asked. “From what we know of the Tesseract, it either would have been unharmed even by a nuclear explosion, which would have left the portal active and no one left alive to shut it down – or else the force of the Tesseract’s detonation would have destroyed the entire solar system. At least.”

“Obviously, the nuke was sent by someone who hasn’t been reading your reports,” Fury said dryly. “But you see what I’ve been dealing with, Coulson.”

Phil nodded, because he did.

“When can I resume active duty?”

“When you don’t have a giant wound in your torso,” Fury said firmly.  “According to the doctor, that should be in a couple of months or so, given your accelerated healing.”

Phil started to object, but Fury put up his hand.

“Most of the world still thinks you’re dead, and we’re going to keep it that way until you’ve recovered enough to take on light duties. Until then, read up on the Chitauri invasion, and review the Avengers Initiative files.”

Despite being irritated at the prospect of two months without anything interesting to do, Phil couldn’t contain his smile.

“The Avengers Initiative is live?”

“That’s the only good thing to come out of this whole mess,” Fury agreed. “The team stepped up to the plate, just as you said they would. And the world knows it.”

Phil was still smiling when Fury said, “As soon as you’re capable, I’m putting you in charge of the Initiative.”

Phil’s smile vanished.

“But sir–”

“No one else is remotely capable of handling such a diverse range of personalities, and you know it, Coulson. I’d do it myself, but I have enough to do dealing with the WSC, and besides, the Avengers haven’t trusted me since they found out about the Phase 2 weapons. You’re the only one I can trust with this.”

That made Phil screw up his face, because while he was pleased by Fury’s trust, he really, really didn’t want to play babysitter to a bunch of volatile superheroes.

“But I liked my job,” said Phil, knowing that there was no point in arguing, but making the effort anyway.

“Don’t try and tell me you don’t want to work with Captain America, Coulson, because I don’t believe you,” said Fury, giving Phil a look.

“It’s the rest of them I’m worried about,” Phil muttered.

“Oh, I think you’ll be surprised,” said Fury cryptically.

* * *

Three months later, Phil was well enough to walk into the Avengers Tower penthouse, having overridden JARVIS’ control of the elevator. There was a moment’s dumfounded silence from the assembled superheroes, before they burst into action.

Phil winced as he was shoved up against the nearest wall. While he was more or less healed by now, he still sported a large scar where Loki had bisected his torso, and it was rather painful when poked or prodded. Otherwise, Phil didn’t react to the violent motion.

“Clint,” Phil said, as calmly as was possible with a hand at his throat. “It’s good to see you free of Loki’s control.”

“Prove it’s you,” Clint demanded, his eyes a little wild. 

So Phil recited the pass phrase they’d used on that op in Budapest, and Clint let out a strangled sob and let Phil go.

“It’s him,” said Natasha, and sheathed the knife she’d pulled out of nowhere.

“How?” Captain Rogers demanded. “Fury told us he was dead!”

But Stark already seemed to have put two and two together, because he took a deep breath, and said, “That son of a _bitch_ –” with great feeling.

It took some fast talking on Phil’s part to avoid being stabbed again, this time by superheroes angry at being lied to, but at the end of his explanation they all seemed to agree that the blame rested with Fury.

“I can’t believe this,” said Clint, and stalked from the room without another word to Phil. Natasha quickly followed after him. Phil watched them go, a little forlornly; he’d been good friends with the two for years, and had rather hoped for a warmer welcome.

Dr Banner seemed uncomfortable with the deception, while Captain Rogers appeared disappointed by it; Stark, meanwhile, ranted and raved, but finally finished with a “Good to see you’re alive, Agent,” which probably indicated that Phil was forgiven.

Phil finally looked across at the final occupant of the room – Darcy Lewis. Phil had been overseeing Dr Foster’s research project personally before he’d been transferred to the Tesseract project, which had been just long enough to get to know the quirky young woman. Phil wasn’t sure how she was going to react – they’d been getting along quite well since Darcy had forgiven him for confiscating her iPod, and it was possible that she might react badly to discovering that Phil’s survival had been kept secret. 

But Darcy merely looked him up and down, pursed her lips, and finally said: “You want some coffee?”

“God, yes,” said Phil, relieved that one person, at least, apparently wasn’t angry or disappointed at him.

Phil followed Darcy into the penthouse kitchen, where Darcy instructed the coffee machine to make them two espressos. 

Phil sipped at his coffee, and restrained a groan of appreciation. It was _good_ coffee.

Darcy took a sip of her own coffee, and didn’t bother to suppress her moan. Phil shifted uncomfortably at the sound, and winced as his scarring twinged.

“Fury wants me to move into the Tower,” said Phil. He knew that Fury was probably right, but if the Avengers didn’t forgive him any time soon, it wasn’t going to be a very comfortable co-habitation.

“Are you going to?” Darcy wanted to know.

Phil shrugged slightly.

“Director’s orders.”

Darcy’s eyes narrowed.

“Director’s orders, huh? Like keeping the fact that you were alive a secret?”

Ah, so Darcy was angry, after all; it was just that it was _Fury_ she was angry at, not Phil.

“He does his best,” Phil told her. “Try not to hold it against him.”

Darcy made a scoffing sound, but didn’t argue. Instead she focused on drinking her coffee.

After a few minutes, Darcy said, “So you’re going to be around a lot if you’re moving in, right?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Cool,” said Darcy. She smiled at Phil. “Well, don’t worry too much about the Avengers: they’ll get over it.”

“I know,” said Phil.

Darcy glanced at her watch, and sighed.

“Well, I’d better get back to work,” she said. “See you around, Coulson.”

“See you around,” Phil echoed, and watched her leave the kitchen.

That had been… a rather more cordial reception than he had expected. Not that he was complaining. But it was nice to know that _someone_ , at least, seemed happy to know that he was alive.

Phil drank his coffee, and tried to ignore the warm feeling in his chest at the fact that it was _Darcy_ who had seemed pleased to see him.

* * *

Phil moved into the Tower the next day; he didn’t see the point in delaying the inevitable. Pepper Potts had been delighted to see him, even crying a little, which made Phil feel like the worst kind of ass for letting her think he was dead. She’d promptly assigned Phil one of the empty apartments when he’d asked for living space in the Tower. But Pepper had a meeting to attend that morning – CEOs didn’t get a break even on weekends, apparently – and Stark was busy in his workshop, while most of the Avengers appeared to be ignoring Phil, for the moment. So it was Phil alone who coordinated his move into the Tower, telling the movers where to put his furniture and other possessions. 

Phil was directing the movers as to where to place the last few boxes, standing in the doorway of his new apartment to do so, when a friendly voice said, “Cool, you’re moving onto our floor! I’ll have to tell Jane we have a new neighbour.”

Phil glanced up to see Darcy Lewis, wearing an Iron Man t-shirt, her hair falling loose around her shoulders.

There were plenty of things Phil could have said to that, but what he chose was: “I question your fashion choices.”

Darcy glanced down at her outfit, puzzled, before realizing what Phil was talking about.

“Oh, the Iron Man shirt? Tony gave us all one of those when we moved in. No one else wears theirs, but dude, free shirt. I’m just a lowly assistant, I don’t say no to free stuff unless it’s like, uber-hideous.” Darcy plucked at the shirt. “And you’ve got to admit, the Iron Man thing is kind of cool, even if I’d never say so to Tony’s face.”

“His ego is big enough as it is,” Phil agreed, and was rewarded with a smile from Darcy. 

“I know, right?” Darcy agreed. “Huge. Like this Tower.”

Phil smiled a little himself at that.

“It’s been suggested that the Tower is compensation for something,” he said blandly, and Darcy laughed loudly.

“I’ll have to tell him so next time he goes on an ego-trip. Because that’s great.” 

Phil knew that he was still smiling, and that the conversation really wasn’t that amusing, but he couldn’t help himself.

_ She’s half your age _ , Phil told himself. It didn’t help.

“I take it you have the weekends free?” Phil asked, and Darcy nodded. 

“Jane tried to make me work weekends, but I was like, nope, you only pay me for weekdays, and anyway, scientists may be able to deal with science 24/7, but I can’t. I _so_ look forward to the weekend, you have no idea. Even if I spend most of it playing video games.” Darcy tilted her head. “How do you spend your weekends?”

“Until recently, I was usually working on a weekend,” Phil said dryly. “Occasionally, I’d attend performances by the Portland Philharmonic Orchestra.”

“Because of the cellist, right?” Darcy did a suggestive thing with her eyebrows, and Phil wondered how she knew about that. “How’s that going?”

“It’s not.” 

Phil and the woman he had been seeing had broken it off not long before the whole Loki debacle. Both of them lived busy lives, and half the time Phil wasn’t even in the same country. It just hadn’t been working. And while Phil had been fond of his girlfriend, he hadn’t ever really been in love with her, and she knew it.

“Oh.” Darcy looked sympathetic. “Bad break-up?”

“Not really. It was a fairly amicable break-up, as these things go.”

But that didn’t mean it hadn’t hurt. Phil had a hard time becoming involved with people, thanks to the tentacle issue, and the failure of yet another of his few relationships had stung.

“Still, I’m sorry,” said Darcy. 

“Thank you,” said Phil. He glanced at the movers, who were almost done. “I need to finish up here, but I would be happy to continue our conversation later.”

“Sure thing, Coulson.”

“Phil,” Phil found himself saying. “Please, call me Phil.”

“Phil it is, then,” said Darcy. “Later then, _Phil_.”

Phil watched her walk away, and was only recalled to what he was doing when one of the movers told him they were done. He shook his head, and told himself to get a grip.

Once the movers were gone, Phil stood in the centre of his new living room, and looked around. He nodded to himself, satisfied, before looking towards the little cluster of sensors at the corner of the room.

“JARVIS,” he said aloud. “I’d like to ask you some questions.”

“Certainly, Agent Coulson,” said the AI. “What would you like to know?”

“I noticed the camera in the corner, and the other sensors,” said Phil. “What exactly do you monitor?”

“My instructions are to monitor the occupants of the Tower in order to ensure their health and wellbeing at all times,” said JARVIS. “While I record everything that occurs within the Tower, that footage is only made available in case of emergency or criminal behaviour. While I may alert Sir to the whereabouts of a given person within the Tower, I will not disclose their chosen activity unless there is an emergency or criminal behaviour taking place – in which case I will immediately alert Sir or Miss Potts. I understand that privacy is important to most individuals, particularly those currently residing within this Tower,” JARVIS added, in reassuring tones.

Phil considered the AI’s words.

“So if you saw something personal or private about me, you wouldn’t tell Stark or anyone else?”

“That is correct, Agent Coulson.”

Phil thought about that for a moment longer. Then he took off his suit jacket, laying it carefully on top of his set of drawers, and unbuttoned his shirt. That went on top of the suit jacket, leaving Phil shirtless. At his back, his tentacles uncoiled, and reached out.

Phil used his fingernails and tentacles to rip the packing tape off the nearest box, and set about unpacking the box with his various appendages. JARVIS never said a word, and no one burst in to ask Phil why he had tentacles, and so Phil relaxed, and became absorbed in his task.

By the end of the day everything was unpacked and in perfect order. Phil found the TV remote, grabbed it with a tentacle, and settled back to watch some trashy reality TV, ignoring the pain in his scar.

* * *

Thor returned to Earth a couple of weeks after Phil moved in, which incidentally, was around the time that the rest of the Avengers forgave Phil - even Clint, who Phil had been secretly worrying was never going to speak to him again. Natasha had understood the deception, and didn’t hold it against Phil; but neither did she trust him quite the way she had before, which was regrettable, but Phil wasn’t sure how to change that, or even if he should – duty would always come first, for Phil, and if Natasha didn’t already understand that (and Phil had thought that she did) then it was about time she started to. All of the Avengers treated Phil like one of them, now, which was a kindness Phil wasn’t sure he deserved (even though being one of them entailed being sucked into the madness that was life in the Tower, something Phil had hoped to avoid).

Phil was eating an early breakfast with Darcy, Dr Foster, and Captain Rogers (all of whom started the day at the same early hour Phil did, even if Darcy, at least, only did so under protest – Darcy was still wearing her pajamas, and was slumped over the kitchen table in a light doze), when JARVIS abruptly said, “Agent Coulson, Prince Thor appears to have landed on the penthouse helipad.”

Dr Foster froze with a spoonful of cereal halfway to her mouth, while Darcy jerked out of her doze with a mumble that sounded like “ _wha?_ ” and blinked several times like she was trying to will herself awake.

“ _Thor’s_ here?” Dr Foster asked in tones of incredulous excitement, spoon forgotten in mid-air. “Actually here?”

“Coffee,” Darcy muttered, grabbing her coffee mug and chugging the contents. Her eyes went wide.

“Darcy, how do I look?” Dr Foster demanded, putting down her spoon and running her fingers through her hair.

“Like yourself,” Darcy said, now reasonably awake thanks to her ingestion of an entire mug of coffee. When Dr Foster gave Darcy a look, Darcy added, “Unreasonably gorgeous for this time of the morning. What? I mean, look at me Jane, I’m still wearing pajamas and my hair is a mess. Trust me, next to me, you’ll look great.”

Dr Foster took a deep breath, said “Right,” and went striding out of the kitchen.

Darcy grabbed Captain Roger’s coffee mug, ignored his “Uh, Darcy? What are you doing?” and drank his coffee down as well.

“Okay, now I’m awake,” she announced, and followed Jane out of the room before Captain Rogers could protest.

“I’d better go supervise,” Phil murmured, as Captain Rogers looked forlornly into his empty coffee mug. Phil headed for the penthouse entertainment area just as there was a delighted roar of “ _Jane!”_ and he entered the room in time to see Thor literally sweep Dr Foster off her feet and into a passionate embrace.

“ _Hello_ , you have an audience,” Darcy pointed out, as Phil joined her. Neither Thor nor Dr Foster seemed to hear her, lost in what they were doing. Phil and Darcy stood there, a little awkwardly, and tried not to watch what was going on in front of them.

“This is awkward,” said Phil.

“So awkward.” Darcy frowned at Thor and Dr Foster. “Do they not need to breathe? Is that one of Thor’s superpowers? Does it extend to the person he’s kissing?”

“I prefer not to speculate.”

Finally Thor and Dr Foster broke apart, both of them beaming.

“Where were you?” Dr Foster demanded, even though she was smiling. “You never even stopped by after the invasion!”

“Loki was in my custody, and it was important to return him to Asgard as soon as possible, lest he escape,” Thor told her. “Believe me, I wanted nothing more than to return to you, Jane, but I had responsibilities to this realm, and my own.”

“As excuses go, that’s not terrible,” Dr Foster said, a little reluctantly, and then she and Thor were kissing again.

Phil sighed. Darcy patted his arm in sympathy.

This time, when Thor and Dr Foster stopped kissing, Thor seemed to notice his audience.

“Darcy!” he boomed, and pulled Darcy into an enthusiastic hug.

“Easy, big guy,” Darcy gasped out. 

“And Son of Coul!” Thor added, letting Darcy go, and turning towards Phil. 

Phil braced himself just in time: Thor clapped in on the shoulder in a way that almost made his knees buckle. 

“Thor,” Phil acknowledged.

“It is good to see you alive, my friend,” Thor said. “The last I saw of you, you lay dying at Loki’s hand. To see you alive and well is nothing short of miraculous.”

“How badly was he injured, anyway?” Darcy asked curiously. “I mean, Natasha said he was stabbed, but…”

“Truly, I do not know how a man could be injured in such a way and survive,” said Thor, shaking his head. He smiled at Phil. “But I am glad of it.”

Ignoring the fact that both Darcy and Dr Foster were eyeing him speculatively, Phil only said, “I was very lucky.”

“Aye,” Thor agreed. “You must have been lucky indeed.”

“Anyway, I’m going to go get changed and everything,” Darcy announced. “Boss lady, will we be doing science today?”

“Maybe later,” said Dr Foster, her eyes on Thor. “I think Thor and I have some catching up to do.”

“Consummating your epic bond, I know,” Darcy said sagely, and Phil tried not to wince at the mental image that gave him, while Dr Foster went, “ _Darcy!_ ” in a scandalized voice.

“Anyway, good to see you, Thor,” Darcy said, ignoring Dr Foster’s ire. “Have fun, you crazy kids.”

“Mind if I walk with you?” Phil asked quickly, because Thor and Dr Foster were staring into each other’s eyes again, and Phil didn’t want to play the awkward spectator to even more kissing.

“Sure,” said Darcy, and so the two of them headed for the elevator together.

“Were they like that last time Thor was on Earth?” Coulson asked as they entered the elevator, because although he’d read the reports of the agents on the ground in Puente Antiguo, none of the reports had prepared him for the Thor and Dr Foster’s passionate reunion.

“Kind of?” Darcy said. “I mean, not so much the PDAs, but they definitely had the whole instant connection thing going. But to be fair, Thor’s pretty hot, plus he respects the fact that Jane is a scientist, so I can see why Jane went for him. And Jane’s pretty great, really, even if she’s obsessed with science, and she did totally hit Thor with her car. Twice.”

Phil glanced at Darcy. 

“You’re not jealous?” he asked curiously, and Darcy made a face.

“Why would I be jealous? Thor and Jane are totally MFEO. Besides, I’ve seen Jane pining over Thor for nearly a year now, so it’s not like she isn’t serious about him.”

Phil nodded thoughtfully.

“Is Thor as serious about Dr Foster, do you think?”

“He better be,” Darcy said with quiet vehemence. “After everything Jane’s done for him, seriously. But to be fair, I’m pretty sure he’s about as gone on her as she is on him, so. No foul there.”

The elevator dinged, and they got out on their floor.

“I see,” said Phil. “Is there anyone special in your life, Darcy?” he asked, as casually as possible.

Darcy snorted, and shook her head.

“I wish,” she said. “But come on, who’s going to understand _this?_ ” She gestured to her surroundings.

“I sympathise,” said Phil. He really did. 

“Yeah, I guess you of all people would understand how hard it is to find someone who understands the crazy that is the Avengers and SHIELD,” Darcy said, nodding. “Hey, is it true you can kill a man with a paperclip?” she added, apropos of nothing.

Phil frowned.

“I did that _once_.”

Mentally, he cursed whichever Avenger – and it could only have been Clint or Natasha – had told her that story. It wasn’t a nice story, and although the rest of SHIELD seemed to get delight out of it, Phil didn’t. He knew that he was a man with an assortment of unpleasant skills, and the inclination to use them if necessary, but that didn’t mean he _liked_ using them. Phil preferred not to dwell on that part of himself – he did what was necessary to save lives, and then he put it behind him. He didn’t like thinking of himself as a killer, even though he knew that was what he was. There was nothing glamorous or glorious about that fact.

“Cool,” said Darcy, her eyes alight with interest, and Phil frowned, wondering if there was a way to make her understand how very far from ‘cool’ it really was.

“It was rather unpleasant, actually,” he said, in the end, unsure of how else to explain, and knowing that he wasn’t doing a very good job.

But Darcy frowned thoughtfully, and said, “I guess it would be kind of gross, huh.”

“It’s not just that,” said Phil. Darcy looked at him with big, curious eyes. “I don’t like killing people. I do it when I have to, but I don’t like it.”

Darcy’s thoughtful frown deepened, and she said, “Well, it’s good to know that someone in SHIELD has morals.”

“Most of us do,” said Phil. “They’re just… flexible.”

“I’m not sure I buy that, but okay,” said Darcy. She glanced down the hallway towards her apartment, and said, “Anyway, I’m going to go get changed, and enjoy a morning that doesn’t involve sciencing at a ridiculously early hour.”

“Have fun with that,” said Phil.

Darcy smiled at him.

“Thanks. You have fun doing whatever it is you’ll be doing.”

“Updating the Director on Thor’s presence and reading reports, mostly, so having fun isn’t very likely,” said Phil, deadpan.

Darcy laughed.

“Well, I’ll see you around,” she said, and headed down the hallway.

Phil entered his own apartment, and prepared to phone Fury to tell him that Thor was back on Earth.

* * *

There were times when living with the Avengers could be rather trying, but there were other times, when everyone was getting along and having fun, when it was actually a pleasant experience.

Communal meals were either an exercise in temper control or an entertaining experience for everyone. This particular meal, it was proving to be entertaining for everyone involved except for Clint – Tony had discovered that Clint used to be in the circus, and had somehow gotten his hands on a copy of one of the old circus posters, which advertised ‘The Amazing Hawkeye.’ The result was that everyone was now trying to convince Clint to show them some archery tricks – even Natasha, who had seen most of them at one point or another.

Phil just sat back, and enjoyed the ongoing argument between Clint and the others.

“I am not your personal circus performer, Jesus,” Clint said loudly, and Phil decided to step in before Tony could make the _‘actually, I’m a Stark’_ joke he was clearly thinking of.

“You should do that thing where you shoot smiley faces in the targets, the crowds love that one,” Phil recommended, with a perfectly straight face.

“Screw you, sir,” was Clint’s reply.

“You’re not really my type,” Phil retorted, and both Clint and Natasha snorted.

“Uh, what?” Dr Banner looked like he didn’t quite understand what was going on. Natasha deigned to explain.

“Phil’s a smartass,” she said, with a smile.

“Seriously?” Tony was gaping. It was very amusing. “Agent has a sense of humour? I never would have guessed.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Phil saw Darcy raise her phone, and heard a shutter-click sound. 

A moment later Phil’s phone buzzed, and when he checked it, Darcy had texted him a photo of Tony’s dumbfounded expression. Phil looked up, and meeting Darcy’s eyes, nodded in thanks, giving her a small smile.

Darcy smiled back, looking devastatingly lovely as she did, and Phil told himself, _I’m in trouble_.

* * *

Phil was woken by a strong sense that something was wrong. Phil’s gut feelings tended to be reliable, more so than a regular person’s gut feelings; he suspected that he’d inherited a certain amount of psychic ability as part of his heritage, along with the tentacles.

So Phil got up out of bed, still in his pajamas, and went for a walk. 

The hallway outside his apartment was silent and still. Phil stood and listened for a moment, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. Instinct drew him to the elevator, and instinct told him to press the button up to the penthouse. Phil knew that it was quite possible that everything was fine – but whenever any of the other residents had trouble sleeping, it had become a kind of tradition inside the Tower to head up to the penthouse kitchen and make a cup of Tony’s expensive cocoa. If someone was feeling troubled or upset by something at this time of night, that was where they would be.

So Phil padded silently out of the elevator, and was halfway to the kitchen when something moved in the shadows near the kitchen doorway. A moment later there was a shriek of “ _Holy shit!_ ” from the kitchen, and Phil’s heart thumped, because that was _Darcy’s_ voice.

“JARVIS!” he snapped, breaking into a run.

“Alerting the other Avengers to the breach of security immediately, sir,” said the AI, sounding worried, and Phil reached the kitchen doorway, and peered around it, trying to get a look into the kitchen.

The slash of a knife almost cut his face open, but Phil threw himself backwards, readying himself for a fight. 

It didn’t come, and so Phil circled around to the open doorway. It immediately became clear why Phil’s attacker hadn’t tried to fight him. The black-clad stranger had his arm around Darcy, and was holding the knife to her throat with his free hand. Darcy herself looked pale and terrified, but was holding together quite well, considering. Phil felt a flash of pride, once which was almost instantly overwhelmed by sheer, murderous rage at Darcy’s situation.

Phil’s temper had always been fairly even, but as his mother once said, rouse that temper and Phil’s anger could rival that of the Devil himself. Right now, looking at Darcy in the assassin’s grip, Phil had never been angrier in his entire life. He saw _red._ But because he had been trained on how to react in situations like these, his white-hot anger immediately transmuted into something cold and deadly and utterly calm.

“Let her go,” Phil said, his voice so even it utterly lacked inflection.

The assassin didn’t move. Phil took a step forward, and the assassin moved the knife further towards Darcy’s throat. Phil stopped, because the threat was clear.

“So that’s your plan,” Phil said. He considered his options for a moment. Then he began pulling off his shirt. 

A moment later Phil threw his shirt to the side, and _moved_.

Tentacles lashed out, grabbing each of the assassin’s arms and legs in a tight grasp and lifting him into the air, untangling him from Darcy as they did. A separate tentacle wrapped around Darcy’s waist and yanked her forward, away from the assassin, and pushed her away so that she was standing behind Phil.

It was at this point that Tony made his appearance in full Iron Man armour, the sound of the repulsors powering up audible in the silence. Phil turned so that Tony could see his profile and wouldn’t mistake Phil for a threat.

“Hey, you, put your hands up and – wait, Agent?” Tony interrupted himself. “Are those tentacles?” His voice wasn’t very expressive through the armour, but Phil could imagine his incredulous tone of voice.

The assassin was writhing in Phil’s grip, suspended in mid-air, but he couldn’t escape Phil’s grasp.

“I see why they call you a genius,” Phil responded, glancing briefly at Tony. Satisfied that the assassin was unable to do anything, Phil looked back over his shoulder at Darcy. The tentacle wrapped around her waist gently let go.

“Are you alright?” Phil asked her.

“Oh my God, you just saved my life,” she breathed, her eyes wide and shocked. She didn’t seem to be harmed, but Phil tried the question a second time.

“Darcy, are you –” 

He stopped as Darcy flung herself forward, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed the hell out of him.

It took Phil a moment to shift gears, but he wasn’t one to waste an opportunity. Arms and tentacles alike wrapped around Darcy’s curvaceous form, and Phil kissed her back without letting the assassin escape. Now wasn’t really the time for this, but, well, Phil wasn’t sure he was going to get another shot at it.

When the two of them finally came up for air, the assassin had given up on trying to get free, and the rest of the Avengers (with the exception of Dr Banner, because releasing the Hulk indoors was never a good idea) were standing around, staring at the scene.

Phil cleared his throat, and Darcy looked up at him.

“We should probably deal with the assassin,” he said, without letting her go.

“That would probably be a good idea,” Darcy agreed, and glanced down. “Um. Tentacles?” The word was a careful question.

“Yeah. Is that okay?” Phil didn’t let his voice change, but felt himself tense as he waited for her answer.

“How long have you had them?” Darcy moved as though to break free of his embrace, and so Phil reluctantly let her go. As soon as he did, Darcy reached for the nearest tentacle, poking it gently.

“All my life,” said Phil. Reluctantly he looked at the Avengers, whose expressions ranged from gobsmacked – Clint – to disturbed – Thor.

Tony put up his faceplate and said, “Okay, since no one else seems to be asking – _why do you have tentacles?_ ” His tone was plaintive.

“Son of Coul,” said Thor. “You are of the lineage of an Elder God.”

It wasn’t a question. Phil gave a short nod.

“You’ve got to be shitting me!” Clint burst out. “An _Elder God?_ Like Lovecraft?” He noticed the looks he was getting. “Hey, don’t give me that look, I read!”

“Not exactly like Lovecraft, but yes,” Phil admitted, still tense and wary, waiting for everyone’s reactions.

“ _Bozhe moi_ ,” said Natasha. She looked pale, and for her, shaken. She couldn’t seem to take her eyes off Phil’s tentacles.

“Um,” said Captain Rogers. “Elder Gods are real?” He looked even more disturbed than Thor.

“Apparently,” said Tony, regaining his equilibrium. “So you’re of the lineage of an Elder God, Agent? Do you know the ancient tongues of the Old Ones? Are you going to hit fifty and descend into the sea to worship at forgotten temples?”

“No,” said Phil succinctly. “I’m not.”

He looked back at Darcy, who was examining one of his tentacles with great interest. Of all of them, she seemed the least concerned by the revelation that Phil was descended from an Elder God.

“You don’t mind?” he asked her.

Darcy looked up.

“Well, it is kind of weird, but I live in a superhero frat house, who am I to judge?” she said reasonably, no longer looking nearly as pale as she had when the assassin had taken hold of her. “So no, I don’t mind.”

“I’m glad,” said Phil, and looked back at the Avengers. “Would some of you help me with this assassin, please? We can discuss my ancestry later.”

As Captain Rogers and Thor moved to take hold of the assassin, Phil sent Darcy one last look.

“We should talk,” he said. “Later.”

Darcy smiled tentatively at him, and said, “That sounds good.”

* * *

The next forty-eight hours were a nightmare – mostly because it turned out that the assassin in question was a brainwashed James Buchanan Barnes, and HYDRA wasn’t as dead and buried as Phil had believed, which they discovered when half of SHIELD turned traitor at once – and Phil spent the week after that mostly at SHIELD headquarters, trying to help Fury and the Avengers sort out the mess.

But eventually Phil demanded a few hours off, in spite of everything he had still to do, and went to see Darcy.

Phil knocked on her door, and Darcy opened it, looking surprised at the sight of him.

“Darcy,” said Phil, and then didn’t know what to say next.

“Um, hi,” said Darcy. “Uh, do you want to come in?” She stepped aside from the door, and so Phil walked inside her apartment, into the living room.

The first thing Phil noticed was the abundance of pop art and knick-knacks that decorated Darcy’s living space.

“I hear you’ve been busy,” Darcy commented from behind him, and Phil turned to face her.

“Busy is one word for it,” he agreed darkly, and Darcy smiled briefly, the expression disappearing almost immediately.

There was an awkward silence.

“Would you like to go out sometime?” Phil began, at the same as Darcy blurted, “I really like you, okay?”

They both stopped, absorbed what the other had said, and began to talk again.

“You like me?” Phil asked, his mood lifting. “Really?”

“Yes, of course I like you, doofus,” said Darcy. “Do you mean out like as in a date?”

“If you’d like that,” said Phil. “Yes.”

Darcy beamed at him, and Phil smiled back; a little goofily, he suspected, but didn’t really care.

“I’d love to, dude,” said Darcy. “Yes. Obviously.”

“You really don’t care about my heritage?” Phil asked.

“Well, of course I care about it – it’s part of who you are,” said Darcy. “But it doesn’t bother me. In case you hadn’t noticed, Phil, you’re pretty awesome.” She was smiling as she said it.

“So are you,” said Phil. “I’m not sure when I’ll be free after today – as you pointed out, I’ve been busy, thanks to HYDRA’s reappearance – but I’m free for at least the next two hours, if you want to go to lunch somewhere.”

“Sounds good,” said Darcy, and Phil had to agree.

They smiled at each other, and despite everything he’d been through over the last week and a half, Phil had never felt better.


End file.
